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LONG ago while yet the Sagas dream-red haze | |
Lay oer Norways dales and fjords unbroken; | |
Ere with Olafs cross men saw her steeples blaze, | |
Ere their mighty iron tongues had spoken; | |
Then the Neck, the Hulder, elves, and fairies gay | 5 |
Wooed the summer moon with airy dance and play. | |
But alas! they fled, | |
As with flaming head | |
Oer the valley shone St. Olafs token. | |
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Thorstein Aasen was forsooth the boldest swain | 10 |
Ever church-road trod on Sabbath morning; | |
As a boy he fought the savage bear full fain, | |
Spite of mothers tears and fathers warning; | |
Never yet was rafter for his heel too high, | |
Haughtiest mien he fronted with unquailing eye; | 15 |
And the rumors tide | |
Bore his glory wide, | |
Still with virtues new his name adorning. | |
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Like a lingering echo from the olden time, | |
Wondrous legends still the twilight haunted, | 20 |
And oer Brages goblet still heroic rhymes | |
In the merry Yule-tide oft were chanted, | |
How of Thorsteins race had one at Neckens will | |
Stayed the whirl and roar of many a noisy mill; | |
How in wild delight | 25 |
At the fall of night | |
He would seek the rivers gloom undaunted. | |
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Late one autumn night, as wild November storms | |
Whirled the withered leaves in frantic dances, | |
And half-moonlit clouds of huge fantastic forms | 30 |
Swift to horror-dreams from rapturous trances | |
Plunged the restless earth, anon in sudden fear | |
Een the raging storm-wind held its breath to hear: | |
From the rivers lair | |
Rose a tremulous air, | 35 |
Rose and fell in sweetly flowing stanzas. | |
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But as morn came forth with frosty splendor keen | |
Where the birch-trees oer the waters quiver, | |
Found the grooms their lord with bow and violin, | |
Ghastly staring down the brawling river. | 40 |
To his instrument was closely pressed his ear, | |
As if there some charméd melody to hear; | |
In his sunken sight | |
Shone a weird delight; | |
But lifes mystery had flown forever! | 45 |
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From that time the secret sorcery of the tone, | |
Passed from sire to son by sure transmission, | |
Had full oft a witching web of music thrown | |
Oer the lonely forests of tradition; | |
And full oft the son with pride and secret dole | 50 |
Heard those strange vibrations in his inmost soul, | |
Like the muffled knell | |
Of a distant bell | |
Fraught with dark and bodeful admonition. | |
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Where the river hurls its foam-crests to the fjord, | 55 |
There lies Torrisdell in sunshine gleaming; | |
Oft its valiant lord gainst Aasen drew his sword, | |
And the red cock crew while blood was streaming. | |
But his daughter Birgit,by the holy rood | |
Neer a fairer maid on church or dance-croft stood! | 60 |
Like the glaciers gaze | |
In the suns embrace | |
Shone her eye with tender brightness beaming. | |
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And when Thorstein Aasen saw that lily maid | |
On her palfrey white on church-road riding, | 65 |
Aye his heart beat loud, and fierce defiance bade | |
To ancestral feuds their hearts dividing, | |
And young Birgit, the fair maid of Torrisdell, | |
Little cared or strove that rising flame to quell; | |
For, ere spring new-born | 70 |
Did the fields adorn, | |
Him she pledged her word and faith abiding. | |
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Loud then swore her angry sire with mead aglow, | |
(Deadly hate was in his visage painted,) | |
Rather would he see his daughters red blood flow, | 75 |
Than with shame his ancient scutcheon tainted. | |
In her lonesome bower then fair Birgit lay, | |
Wept and prayed by night and prayed and wept by day; | |
Oer her features pale | |
Crept a death-like veil; | 80 |
With her waning hopes her heart had fainted. | |
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But when winter came and merry Christmas-tide, | |
Birgits sire her wedding torches lighted; | |
Out his varlets rode through seven valleys wide, | |
Far and near to bridal-feast invited. | 85 |
For that lily sweet with summers fervor blest | |
Must its blossom waste on winters snowy breast, | |
To a hoary swain, | |
Kalf of Nordarstein, | |
Torrisdells fair maid her troth had plighted. | 90 |
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Sooth a goodly feast he gave, the doughty lord; | |
Through the halls shone ninety torches blazing. | |
Forward bent in flight, stood on the bending board | |
As upon their trail the hounds were chasing | |
Stag and hind; and through the wide-flung doors | 95 |
Poured the noisy throng like breakers on the shores. | |
But in silent gloom | |
With her hoary groom, | |
Sat the bride on all that splendor gazing. | |
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Seven days they feasted all that lusty throng | 100 |
In the midnight flush of bright December: | |
On the seventh eve the bride with play and song | |
Burst in glory forth from out her chamber. | |
For the last time now she stood there silver-crowned; | |
Strove to feign good cheer, while tears her accents drowned; | 105 |
Then an awful cry | |
Shook the rafters high, | |
Birgit Torrisdell, it said, remember! | |
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Open flew the doors: there fell a silence dread; | |
In sprang Thorstein bounding to the rafter, | 110 |
Round he swung a flaming torch above his head | |
Till a trail of blood-red sparks flew after. | |
Birgit! cried he,Birgit! but about the bride | |
Clung the affrighted women close on every side. | |
Come, my beauteous elf, | 115 |
Hast thou hid thyself? | |
And he whirled the torch with frantic laughter. | |
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Hark!then trembling chords as on the night-wind blown | |
Came with fitful throbs and weird vibration; | |
Quickly stayed he, shuddered, and his wild eye shone | 120 |
With a restless, strange illumination; | |
And as eager falcon darts upon his prey, | |
Seized a violin and straight began to play. | |
Up then springs in haste | |
Every drowsy guest, | 125 |
Smitten with the tones intoxication. | |
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As the fifth stroke fell, then quaked the lofty roof, | |
Quaked the tottering walls too that upbore it, | |
Wild and wilder danced the rout, and hurled aloof | |
Torches, tables, benches, all before it. | 130 |
Ninth,and lo, as if the horror-laden deep | |
Burst its gnawing chains of long-enforcéd sleep, | |
Hid in midnights shroud | |
Shrieked the doom-fraught cloud, | |
As the wrathful storm-wind beat and tore it. | 135 |
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Fierce with stifled hissing came the tenth accord, | |
While the tempest blew its strain sonorous; | |
Down the hungry heavens swooped upon the fjord, | |
And our world was gloom beneath and oer us. | |
Off was hurled the roof; by maddening frenzy caught, | 140 |
Wild with glaring eyes the guests together fought, | |
And like angry hosts | |
Of appalling ghosts | |
Joined the tempests terror-haunted chorus. | |
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Densely and more densely rolled the waves of gloom, | 145 |
Everywhere above them and around them: | |
Onward rushed the player and the guests of doom, | |
Making midnight blacker where it found them. | |
On and ever onward, over land and sea, | |
In the darksome clouds the hapless dancers flee, | 150 |
Till the last sound died | |
In the sullen tide, | |
And the tempests roar in distance drowned them. | |
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Centuries have faded, and the kindly earth | |
Hides the mouldering beams of Birgits bower; | 155 |
But the dooméd dancers still with frantic mirth | |
Breast the tempest and the midnights power. | |
And full oft the peasant from his hearthstone warm | |
Hears those fitful notes, that bode the coming storm, | |
And his mirth will die | 160 |
In a pitying sigh | |
At the fate of Torrisdells fair flower. | |
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